Infatuation of the Rose
by Lady Raion
Summary: AU Squinoa. In the midst of a murder case, two people fall prey to romantic obsession, but everything falls apart when a fatal secret gets in the way. DISCONTINUED.
1. Drawn to the Flame

Well, I'm back again. I've regained a small amount of my lost confidence. I'm going to be a published poet!!! Anyway, this story was formally called "Into the Unknown", but I've changed the title and reworked the plot. Hope you enjoy!  
  
  
  
Infatuation of the Rose  
  
  
  
Darkness, a kind that was blacker than sin, fell over the garden like the blade of an axe, slicing through the calm of the day. Silver drops of rain water clung to the plants and shrubs and glitered in the faint light that strayed from the mansion. He bent close to the rose bush, a glimmering object hidden within having caught his eye.  
  
He reached for it quickly, but cautiously, a sense of urgency flowing through his veins. There was something nearby watching him, though he saw nothing when he surveyed the area. Just when he thought he had secured the sacred object, a hooded figure rose from the bushes and towered over his kneeling form in an intimadating manner. The face was hidden in shadows, and the body draped in black cloth. It reached a delicate hand toward him, almost as if reaching for help, but before he had the chance to decide, he looked down at his hands to see that they were bleeding profusely, a thorn in the roses having pricked him.  
  
He found himself in a room suddenly, with a small bed against the wall and a set of open double doors that led to the balcony, allowing a strong breeze to waft in and blow the long white drapes inward. There was a flash of what seemed like lightening, covering the room in blank white light before returning to a nightmarish version of the previous scene. The covers of the bed were smattered in blood, and the soft beige carpet was stained crimson. The billowing drapes were streaked with the offensive liquid, and it ran in thin streams down the walls. The hooded stranger returned then, and stood in the open doorway to the balcony, their back turned toward the outside. The person turned their head over their shoulder as if to stare at him, the hood that covered their head falling back to reveal a bared, dirt-stained skull with teeth like that of a ferocious animal. It lifted a large axe over it shoulder, and the last thing he saw was the shining blade as it rushed at his head...  
  
  
  
Squall Leonhart sat up quickly in his bed, cold sweat covering his unclothed form. He shook his head, as if attempting to rid himself of the reoccuring nightmare, and silently thanked the higher powers that the screeching of the train as it came to a stop had woke him up in time.  
  
He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and stood to look out the window, discovering that this was, indeed, his stop. He hurriedly dressed and gathered the few possessions he had brought with him before rushing to disembark from the train. If he missed his stop, and was delayed, chances were he'd lose the case he'd been assigned to handle.  
  
As he stepped off the ramp, he noticed a stern-faced man in a black suit, and matching hat scanning the area, as if expecting someone. Squall calmly approached him, figuring that this was probably his ride.  
  
Before he even reached the man, he called out, "Are you Mr. Leonhart?"  
  
When Squall nodded, the man gave a curt nod and motioned for Squall to follow him. "We've been expecting you."  
  
Squall was led to a black stretch limozine that was parked out front. He tried to ignore the stares he recieved from the passers-by, though he himself was awed that he should be treated to such luxury.  
  
As if reading his mind, the driver whom he had followed said, "The Lady expects that you will deliver to her the outstanding services that you are known for. For this, she will treat you to whatever you may desire. She's very generous."  
  
Squall nodded briefly before sliding into the backseat of the limo while the driver put his bags in the trunk.  
  
The mansion to which he would be traveling to was located on the other side of town, so the journey there gave him an oppurtunity to study the town. It was a small, quaint place, mostly made of gray-stoned apartment complexes and white-washed boarding houses. The population consisted of poor, to middle class people, most of which were employed by his rich client.  
  
After the short ride through the simple town, they drove up into the arc-shaped drive way of the masion. It was three stories tall, and painted a beautiful white. A low brick wall, topped with white iron fencing, inclosed the sides and back of the house, and guards, accompanied by vicious dogs were stationed around the front to keep out unwanted visitors.  
  
"Will you be alright from here, or shall I show you in?" the driver asked as they stepped out of the car.  
  
"I'll be fine," Squall muttered as he made his way up the stairs to the front entrance. Upon ringing the door bell, he was greeted with another older man in a suit.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
"I'm here to see Ms. Trepe," he answered.  
  
"You're the private investigator?"  
  
Squall nodded, desperately hoping that he wouldn't have to endure too many more of Trepe's servants. He followed this man through a few formal rooms, until at last he was shown to the room were Trepe was supposedly waiting.  
  
The room was richly decorated with Persian rugs, antique furniture and a grand fire-place. Squall squinted through the dim light of the room, as he waited for Ms. Trepe to address him. Finally, she turned to look at him, her face rigid and emotionless.  
  
"Mr. Leonhart, I presume?" she asked, ackwardly extending a hand.  
  
Squall gritted his teeth, and shook her hand briefly. He hated shaking people's hands, but he had to be polite to his client.  
  
"If you would, could you give me the details of this case?" he asked. "What am I looking for?"  
  
"A culprit," she explained stiffly.  
  
He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something rude. "Yes, but why? I need you to give me details."  
  
"As you know, I own a fishing company. Most of the people in this town work for me. Well, recently, my workers have been murdered, one by one. The survivers have quit working, out of fear. My company's been shut down, and the majority of the town's people aren't working."  
  
"As if you have any concern for them," snapped another female voice.  
  
Squall looked beyond Trepe and into the shadows near the fireplace. There stood a young woman, strands of silken midnight falling in her face, and partially covering the dark pools of her eyes, which glinted with unspoken pain. She wore a short black dress, that fit her form perfectly, but blended in with the shadows in which she hid.  
  
"Ignore her," Trepe said. "That's just my half-sister, Rinoa Heartilly."  
  
"Heartilly?" Squall questioned.  
  
"I'm a widow, sir," Trepe explained.  
  
Squall nodded and forced himself to remove his gaze from the dark beauty that stood, enticing his senses with fire. "If that's all, I'll be going to my hotel, now."  
  
She shook her head. "You'll do no such thing. You are to stay here and protect me. And, if you must, my brat of a sister, as well."  
  
He sighed in resignation. He didn't want to spend anymore time than was absolutely necessary with the shrewd bitch that stood before him, but he was hard-up for the money. "Fine, then."  
  
A small smile twisted her stiff expression, and her dull blue eyes seemed to spark with sudden life. "Good. My first name is Quistis, by the way. You may call me that, while you're working under me. I hope you enjoy your stay." She then turned to Rinoa, who stood quietly behind her. "Rinoa, show him to the guest room, and make sure that his possessions are delivered to him."  
  
Rinoa seemed about to protest, but instead shot a brief glance at Squall and began walking out of the room with him following closely behind her, the moth drawn fatally to the flame.  
  
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Squall followed quietly behind Rinoa, who walked briskly down the empty halls, her heels clicking on the marble flooring.  
  
As they came to a staircase, Rinoa slowed to a stop and stood there for a moment, unmoving. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to face him, her eyes shyly locking with his, and flickering to the ground occasionaly. "How long will you be staying here?" she asked, her voice soft and smooth.  
  
He shrugged. "It depends on how long it takes me to solve this case."  
  
She nodded and smiled slightly, "Maybe by the time you leave, you'll be able to tolerate Quistis' attitude."  
  
He shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever be able to stand her."  
  
"That's too bad. She'll be the only company you have while you're here."  
  
"I don't need company," Squall replied. "And what about you?"  
  
"I'm not a very interesting person to talk to," she said, looking away for a moment before suddenly locking gazes with him, "but if you need someone, to talk to, I mean, you can always come to me."  
  
He fidgeted with his hands while staring at the ground before answering. He never was comfortable with these types of situations. "Thanks..."  
  
She started up the stairs again, motioning for him to follow. After walking down another long hall, she finally came to a halt in front of a set of double doors. "This is your room. I'll make sure someone takes your things up to you before morning. Do you need anything else?"  
  
"I don't know my way around," he pointed out. "In a place this big, I'm likely to get lost."  
  
"I'll give you a full tour tomorrow, I promise," she said. "It's a little late now."  
  
He nodded, and opened the door a crack, prepared to step inside, "Well.... goodnight then, Ms. Heartilly."  
  
"Please, call me Rinoa," she said, as she was turning to leave. "Oh, and one last thing, she said over her shoulder. "Lock your doors."  
  
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It was past midnight when Rinoa finally managed to find Johnson, their driver, so that she could get the keys to the limo. He and some of his friends had gathered in the celler, and were having a late night game of poker while they had their nightly shots of brandy, accompanied by a box of cigars they'd stolen from a guest's room.  
  
Though Rinoa was technically the joint master of the house, no one really treated her that way, since Quistis didn't. Had it been Quistis asking Johnson to get off his ass and get Mr. Leonhart's belongings, he would have done so right away. Instead, he kept saying that he was in the middle of the game, and couldn't be bothered. Rinoa would have to get it all herself.  
  
Thankfully, he hadn't traveled with much, so it wasn't hard to get it to his room. She just didn't feel right unlocking his door and barging into his room without permission. Still, a promise was a promise.  
  
She unlocked his door and set his bags down on the floor at the foot of his bed. She was about to turn and leave when her eyes caught on his sleeping form, and her feet automatically began moving forward, as if she were hynotized, and in a way she was. She had been hypnotized by his eyes, his lips, his scent, his body. It was almost as if he had her under some kind of spell.  
  
She came to stand next to him, and before she knew what she was doing, she was gently carresing his face, and running her fingertips over his lips. She drew her hand down, over his neck and down his bare chest, biting her lip as she did. Suddenly, he drew in a sharp breath, and she pulled her hand away, panicked, and decided she should go ahead and leave.  
  
Her last task of the evening having been completed, she crept down the corridor, headed to her own room. Once she was inside, she took a quick look at the familiar surroundings, her bad that was pushed against the wall, her double balcony doors, and the white drapes that hung over them. Her room was simple. But at night, with the shadows dancing through the room, and the eerie quiet sinking in, it would start to become something different than just a simple room. Every night she would see the nightmare play out before her eyes, and nothing she did could stop it.  
  
She changed into her night gown and sat on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest. She would try to resist it as long as possible, but she knew it was coming. And it always started with a rose thorn embedded in her hand.  
  
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A/N: It sucks, so flame me, if you must...... 


	2. Dreaming of Reality

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and concepts hereafter mentioned or implied. The characters, and locations are the sole property of Squaresoft. - A/N: I live!!!! Seems FF.net is finally up. Good. Anyway, to answer a question, the name Raion, means lion in Japanese. It's a name, or title with mutiple meanings for me.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
The dark form slunk slowly behind the tree, a slight limp disrupting his steady, but cautious pace. His eyes settled on the light ahead as he watched and waited in the safety of the shadows, every sound, and every movement fueling his paranoia. When finally he saw her appear on the bridge ahead of him, he cast a look in either direction before heading out to meet her. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- He needn't question if it was really her, or just a trap. The harshness of the street light above cast her somewhat flawed facial features in brightness. He smiled at her from beneath his wide-brimmed hat and presented a fist full of small white flowers from behind his back. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------- "Cheap," she commented as she took them, having expected at least half-a-dozen roses. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------- "Sorry," he replied. "You know I had to quit my job the other day. And I still have to support my family. The wife still expects something nice every now and then." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ "When are you going to divorce that old hag? And why bother buying her something nice if you don't want to be with her anymore?" she asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- "Honey, I told you. I'm waiting 'till I can find a decently-priced apartment. And I buy her things because I don't want her getting suspicious of us. I'm sorry, but we might have to wait a little while longer." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- "What for?!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- "Shhh," he replied hastily before shooting a few quick glances around. "I just had to quit my job. Extra money'll be scarce for a while." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "Why did you quit in the first place? It was stupid." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "You've read the news lately. You know that-" he stopped suddenly as he heard the rustling of footsteps nearby. He searched the surrounding darkness, knowing that his wife had caught him red-handed, and would take him for all he was worth after this. But no one approached the couple illuminated on the bridge. "Did you hear that?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- She sighed. "I didn't hear anything. I think you're just out of it. Now, are we going to the motel, or not?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- "I guess so," he answered, briefly removing his hat to run a hand through his hair, a gesture that always meant he was nervous. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- The two began walking down the other side of the bridge, hand in trembling hand, when the grass rustled again, but this time from the otherside of the bridge. He stopped dead in his tracks, pulling her to a halt as well and surveyed the suspicious area to which they were headed. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "It was nothing," she insisted, tugging at his arm. "Now let's go, or I'm leaving!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- He sighed but continued walking, unconciously noting that he was holding his breath as he went. As they reached the shadowed patch of grass on the otherside, he slowly let out the air he held captured in his lungs, thingking that if they'd made it this far without incident, then perhaps there really was no danger. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- Just as he was silently celebrating making it through another night of unexposed adultery, he saw the shadow creep up behind them, and felt the chill travel up his back. It wasn't his wife, that much he knew. But as to what it was.... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ Sadly, he was never given the chance to inquire about it further. As he turned to confront the mysterious shadow, it chose that moment to attack its prey.  
  
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Rays of blinding sun light seeped through the gaps in the curtains that covered the window, burning through the protective shields of his eyelids and forcing open those icy blue spheres of his while chasing away the remnants of the clouded dream that had disturbed his mind the night before. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- A quick look around the room revealed his luggage laying in a heap by the foot of the bed, but his gaze was drawn elsewhere, as something peculiar caught his eye. On the floor, next to the side of the bed where he had slept, lay a gleeming silver object. He leaned over and carefully picked it up between his fingers, as if he were afraid it carried some kind of disease. It was a silver ring with a layer of black carved into it. Strange silver designes rose up from the black indention, swirling in patterns of unusual beauty. As he studied it, he realized it was small, the size that would fit the slender finger of a woman. Perhaps the person that had delivered his bags had dropped it? But what was that person doing so close to him while he was sleeping? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- He shook his head and slid open the drawer of a nearby side table before dropping the ring inside. He figured that whoever had lost it would eventually find it in there. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- He stood from the bed, wiping the last of the sleep from his eyes, and walked over to the pile of his luggage. After digging around in one of the suitcases, he found his usual attire and quickly changed into it before heading out the door. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ As he was closing his door behind him, and starting to walk down the hall, he bumped into something hard, and suddenly found himself looking down at none other than Ms. Heartilly herself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Sorry," he muttered, uneasily extending a hand to help her up. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- She could only stare at him, her eyes shining beneath the thick, dark lashes that rimmed her brown orbs. She had landed flat on her butt, her short black skirt strewn over the top of her legs as she leaned back on her hands. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "Are you alright?" he asked after a few moments. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Having been brought back to reality by the sound of his voice, she took his hand, feeling the heat start to spread over her cheeks. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Sorry. It was my fault," she murmured before hurrying off past him, straightening her dress as she went. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- Before she could reach the end of the hall, she was halted as a strong hand reached for her own and drew her back. She slowly turned her head until her startled gaze met with his. He seemed so serious, and though his face showed no hint of displeasure, the look of lingering anger that was always present on his face caused her to tremble beneath his relentless gaze. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- Taking note of both his unusual action, and her terrified reaction, he quickly let go of her hand and stepped back from her, only the tiniest hint of his confusion apparent on his face. "I don't know my way around, remember," he said cautiously. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "Sorry," she replied quickly, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Follow me, Mr. Leonhart." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "Call me Squall, please," he corrected as he followed a few steps behind her. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "Sorry," she murmered again. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "You don't have to apologize for everything," he found himself saying. He almost didn't believe he was in control of his own mouth. He never talked that much. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- To his surprise, she suddenly began to laugh, though it sounded somewhat bitter. "I know. It's just... well, most people like to be formal, especially when they're the guests." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "You have guests here often?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "No. You're the first guest here in about ten years. Quistis is a very private person. She doesn't generally like people adrift in her house. She'd probably hate it if she knew I was showing you around like this." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Then why are you?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "You requested it." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- "You always do what people tell you?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- She crossed her arms over her chest as she walked and hung her head slightly. "Yes," she replied softly. "It's the way I was taught." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- Rinoa began walking again, her mind drawn off into her own world. Squall stood, rooted to the spot as he watched her. Why would someone as rich as Rinoa's father had been instill a servantile attitude into one of his daughters? It was obvious that Quistis had not been raised the same way, or if she had, she chose to ignore it. What had Rinoa been 'taught' that made her act the way she did?  
  
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"This is the library," Rinoa announced as they entered yet another room in the humongous mansion. "We've got all kinds of books here. Just about anything you could ever hope to read about." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Squall gazed around the room, somewhat in awe. There were rows, upon rows of book cases filling the room, along with several wooden tables, and cushioned chairs that sat next to lamps. One of the walls was made of glass, letting the sun light wash over the room. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "Feel free to come here anytime you want to read or be alone," Rinoa said. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "No one's ever in here?" he asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "Just me," she replied. "But it's a big library. I could be somewhere in this room and you wouldn't even know it." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- "You read a lot?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- She nodded and allowed a genuine smile to grace her features. "I love to read. And the library overlooks both the ocean and the garden," she said, pointing at the glass wall. "I like to take pictures of it. Photography is kind of a hobby of mine. I've done it since I was a little girl." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- He studied the smile on her face, and couldn't helping thinking that a smile looked much more natural on her than the meloncholy look that often covered her face. He subconciously admired the way her eyes sparkled with sudden life, instead of hidden tears. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Are you any good at it?" he asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- She shrugged. "I'd like to hope so, but... I'm just an amatuer, and no one's ever actually seen my work." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Why not?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "No one's ever really asked to," she admitted, then looked at him with a sudden spark of light in her eyes. "Would you like to? I have a photo album full of them in one of these book cases." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Squall never really had that much interest in photography, but couldn't stand to say no and upset her. Normaly, he wouldn't much care, but the almost unearthly creature that stood before him brought out a feeling he never knew he had. He dismissed it as pitty, but nodded his head all the same. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- She smiled up at him for a moment before heading over to one of the book cases in the back of the room. He followed behind her slowly, his gaze unwillingly entranced by the rythmic swaying of her body, and flirtatious swing of her hips as she walked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- When she reached the last book case, she ran her fingers gently over the smooth wood as she searched the unmarked spines of the books. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Some of these books look really old," he commented as she searched. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "They are. Most of the books on this shelf are family records, and journals. We were always taught to preserve the past," she answered. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- He frowned as she mentioned once more her life's education, but she didn't notice. Instead, she wondered over to the other side of the book case, still in search of her photo album. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- While Squall waited for her to find what she was looking for, he carefully slid the oldest looking book off the shelf and flipped through it. It appreared to be a record of all the births and deaths that had taken place over the past few centuries or so. As he scanned through the long forgotten names, a small 'ping' reached his ears from the floor below him. He placed the book back in its space upon the shelf and bent down to investigate the sound. What he found was a small copper-colored key. It must have fallen out of the book. He was about to take it to Rinoa when the thought struck him that it might be useful later, so he stuck it in his pocket and walked to the other side to find Rinoa. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- "It doesn't look like it's here," she said. "Well, we should probably go ahead and go anyway. We can't spend all day here." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------- "What's left for me to see?" he asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Well, this place is huge. Some of the rooms I've never even been to. And, of course, there Quistis' section of the mansion, where her room is, but she'd kill me for going anywhere near there." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "Where do you stay? In one of the guest rooms?" he asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- She nodded, her face darkening slightly. "Yes. My room's right down the hall from yours. So, if you ever need anything..." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- He nodded shyly before she could finish the sentence. "Yeah, well, I should probably get back to my own room. I've got some details about this case that I need to look over. I'm beginning my investigation tomorrow." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- She nodded silently as she stared hard at the floor, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks again. "I see. Good luck. With this case, you'll need it."  
  
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"The murders began slowly. One here, and a few months later another one. But as more victims fell prey to this heartless killer, the intervals between the murders decreased. The first few to die were just pier workers. They worked on loading and unloading the cargo, and making sure it was delivered to the right place. Then the killer began working his way up, going after crew members aboard the fishing ships, then the captains. Before long they were targeting the people that actually ran the buisness. Luckily they haven't gotten to me yet, but I feel it's only a matter of time. Whoever's doing this has a plan. The killing's were systematic. Everything was part of a pattern." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ Squall sighed as he reread Quistis' report. It was obvious that whoever he was dealing with had a good head on their shoulders. Systematic murders made the next victim easy to predict, but the master mind behind it all was often hard to catch. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- As he was sorting through some more files, there was a knock on his door. He opened it to see a solemn-faced Rinoa standing on the other side. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Quistis wants to talk to you. Follow me, and I'll take you to her." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- He grudingly followed after her, being in no mood to deal with Quistis. After just a few moments of walking, they arrived back in the parlor, where Squall had first met Rinoa, and her less pleasant half- sister. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "Good luck," Rinoa whispered before walking away, leaving him alone with Mrs. Trepe. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Have a seat," Quistis commanded. She sat in one of the antique chairs holding a small cup of steaming tea in her hands. She wore a long, fur robe, as if she were relaxing, but still wore her diamond earrings and pearl necklace. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "What is it?" Squall asked, cutting straight to the point. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "You've been here nearly a full day already. I want to know what you've come up with." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "A day is hardly enough time to accomplish anything. I'm still settling in." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "I didn't hire you to be lazy!" she snapped. "I expected you to be out there finding the killer. I'm in great danger here, Mr. Leonhart. I need you to protect me, as well as my property from the monster that's come after me!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- Squall narrowed his eyes. "Maybe if you could give me more information, then I would be able to work faster." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "What more do you need?" she asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- "You said that they started going after more important people. Like who? Your family? How did they die?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- Quistis drew in a sharp breath and was silent a moment before saying, "I hardly see how that's relevant. But if you must know, my mother and father divorced, and I never heard from her again. My father married Julia Heartilly, and they had Rinoa. My father didn't know this at the time," she sighed, "but Julia had some... mental problems. They're hereditary, in fact. The two of them got in an argument one evening, and Julia shot my father. The incident was covered up, because she had to continue running the business in my father's place. A few years after I was married, she died of cancer, and left the property to me, since I was older. My husband was killed in a boating accident. Is that enough information for you, Mr. Leonhart?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- "You don't seem too upset about all that happened," he commented. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ "Who are you to judge!" she exclaimed. "I grieve for them still, inwardly. And while we're alone, I'd like to take the oppurtunity to warn you about Rinoa." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ "What about her?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------ "Her mother's sickness was hereditary, as I said. She passed it on to Rinoa. She might seem to be somewhat harmless on the outside, but I assure you, she is a danger. I would suggest you stay as far away from her as possible. I've noticed the way she looks at you. She's taken a liking to you, and that could be fatal. Don't encourage it, please. For your own safety," she warned. "Now, I expect you to be out investigating tomorrow, understood?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "Yes, that was my plan," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Yes," she said, her eyes following him as he stood and headed for the door. "Don't forget my warning. It could mean life or death." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Squall resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he stood from his seat and left the slightly older lady alone. Though Rinoa was a bit strange, he somehow doubted that she was dangerous. Logically, he knew it was possible, but everytime the idea came up in his mind, he would again picture her warm brown eyes and shy smile, and he would feel that this girl could be nothing but innocent. How could Quistis accuse such a quiet, humble being like Rinoa? And the more he ran her words through his head it, was not so much her warning that caught his attention, but something else she said. The way Rinoa looked at him? Was there something there that he was missing? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- "You know, sometimes things aren't what they seem on the surface," a voice came from behind him. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- He turned to find a smirking Rinoa standing in an archway behind him, her eyes suddenly dark and seductive. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "What do you mean by that?" he asked, feeling as if she'd read his mind. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- She cocked her head to the side, her raven hair shadowing her angelic features. "You know what I meant," she answered, then bit down on her crimson lips. "I heard what Quistis said." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "All of it?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- She nodded. "Every single word." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "And? Was she lying?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- She walked up to him slowly, until her face was inches from his, but still hidden in the darkness, so that he could not see her that well. "I'll leave that up to you to decide, Mr. Detective." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- With that she began walking down the long corridor, leaving a dumbfounded Squall behind her. He glanced down at the floor beneath his feet, trying to gather his senses, before calling out, "Rinoa, wait." But when he looked up, she had completely dissapeared.  
  
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Rinoa sat alone in the front room, her dark eyes hauntingly forlorn as she stared at her reflection in the marbel floor. Her thoughts were rushing through her head at a dangerous speed, and she could no longer control them. They all centered around him. He was such a silent man, but the way he affected her had nothing to do with words. He hadn't even tried to trigger her senses, it had been an automatic occurance. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ He didn't seem to notice her, however. Most of the time he spoke to her, he was looking at anything but her. Her mind kept going back to the last time she had seen him, when she had taken him to Quistis. He didn't so much as glance at her, that she was aware of. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- She considered leaving the loneliness of her mood behind her and going off to find him, perhaps to talk to him, but she doubted he wanted to be troubled with her. She was about to saunter off to bed, when an unexpected knock on one of the double doors caught her attention. She opened it to reveal a stern-faced policeman and a slightly aged, thin woman with short, neat hair. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Can I help you?" she asked, her eyes darting from one to the other. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "You're Mrs. Trepe?" the officer asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- Rinoa shook her head. "No, I'm her sister. Do you need to see her?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "I understand you have a private investigator on the premises? Isn't he investigating the murders involving Mrs. Trepe's company?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- Rinoa nodded. "Yes." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- The officer turned to his female companion. "You need to talk with him instead of us. This is his case already," he told her before walking away. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- The woman looked back to Rinoa and quietly asked, "May I come in?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Rinoa stepped back and allowed her entrance before asking, "Why are you? Why do you need to see Mr. Leonhart?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "Who?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "The investigator you seek." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "Oh. Well, my name is Selphie Tilmitt, and I think my boyfriend was murdered by the same person that killed the other employees of Mrs. Trepe. He worked for her not too long ago but quit when he found out about all that was going on. The police said I needed to talk to your private investigator." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------- At that moment Quistis strode into the room, wondering at the unusual intrusion. "Who is this?" she asked. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------- "I'm a witness to a murder," she replied. "May I come in and speak with you?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------- Quistis nodded after a moment's consideration and led her into another room, leaving Rinoa alone again. She wrapped her arms around herself as she traveled down the long hallway, headed off to her own room for some desperately needed sleep. Along the way, she happened to look up so that her gaze was met with a glimmering blue one. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Squall!" she nearly squeaked out, startled by his sudden appearence and close proximity. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "I was wondering where you went," he said. "I wanted to talk to you." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "T-to me?" she stammered. "What for?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "You dissapreared so suddenly after I saw you in the hallway the last time." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Yeah, because Quistis wanted to speak with you. She would've told me to go away, even if I hadn't." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- He shook his head. "No, I mean afterward. When you told me that you heard everything that Quistis said about you." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- She arched an eyebrow. "Squall, I haven't seen you since I left you to talk to Quistis. And I didn't hear anything that Quistis said. What did she say about me?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- "Rinoa, I'm not in the mood to play around-" he began. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- "I'm not. I don't know what you're talking about." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- He narrowed his eyes and lowered them to the ground as he lost himself temporarily in his own thought process. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm just tired is all. It's been a long day, trying to adjust to everything. I guess I should go to bed." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ "Wait," she called as he began to turn away. "What did you want to talk to me about? And what did Quistis say about me?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ He shook his head. "It's not important now. I'll see you in the morning." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------- "Yeah," she said quietly as he walked away. "See you." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------- As she walked off to her own room, Quistis sighed from around the corner and shook her head before casting a quick glance at in the room where she'd left Ms. Tilmitt. Squall was getting to close to her for Quistis' comfort. Though she would never admit it outwardly, she was seething with jealousy inside. She was use to getting the attention while Rinoa hid in the shadows. That's the way she wanted it. She would have to see to it that she got it.  
  
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A/N: Well, there's another chapter down. I know Rinoa's not quite... well, Rinoa, but that's the way she's going to be in this story. Keep in mind, she's from a different background this time. REVIEW!!!! Flame if you must. Even though my bright red hair dye is highly flammable.... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------ ALSO: I know there is a short line after every paragragh, but that is to seperate the paragraphs since FF.net wouldn't do it. 


	3. Jealous

Chapter 3  
  
The sun had barely peeked over the rim of the earth when Squall's eyes blinked open, a chill down his spine having alerted him to the fact that someone's eyes were staring at him through the darkness of the room, as of yet untouched by stray beams of light. He shifted carefully in his small bed, his blurred eyes searching slowly for the source of his sleep's disruption.--------------------------------------------------------------- "Rinoa?" the name slipped out unwilling from his mouth, his voice a little dry from a night of light snorning. Why HER name of all the others had been the first to come to his lips at such an early moment in the morning, he didn't know, but he somehow felt more comfortable with the possible outcome of this accusation than any other.------------------- "Tell me, why is that the first word out of your mouth this morning?" came a soft, dark voice from across the room, by the door. "You're supposed to stay away from Rinoa, remember? She's dangerous. Yet still, you continue to speak to her, think about her. I sense an infection in your soul, Mr. Leonhart. And it goes by the name of Heartilly."------------ -------------------------------------------------------------------- Squinting into the darkness, Squall could barely make out what he thought was Rinoa's slender, delightfully curved form leaning against the door with her arms crossed over her chest, as if in an attempt to be intimidating. "Rinoa, I don't know what you want, but I'd aprecitate it if you didn't barge into my room and stare at me in my sleep. What do you think you're doing, anyway?"------------------------------------------------ --------- He couldn't see her smirk through the dimness of the room, but he could hear it in her voice when she said, "This is my house after all. I go where I feel like going. Shouldn't I?"---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- "It's nice that you started thinking that way, but don't you think you should take this up with Quistis?" he muttered, beginning to lose his patients with the strange woman before him.--------------------------------- -------------------------------------------- Rinoa slowly padded across the room, the darkness masking her features. The only sounds were that of their breathing. She finally came to stand next to his bed and bent down, so that she was closer to him as he curiously propped himself up on his elbow.------ "I told you before that not everything is as it seems," she whispered, her warm breath gently carresing his face. "This is something you need to remember in this place. Two people in this house are lying, and your life may very well depend on figuring out who."-------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- "Rinoa, what are talking about?" he asked, his own voice having shrunk to a whisper as his eyes desperately searched the masked face before him.-------------------- "I'm not who you think I am," she whispered, before leaning even closer to him. "Trust me." She leaned in even closer, her lips almost touching his, when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a sour-faced Quistis.------------------------------------- "Mr. Leonhart, who are you talking to?" she demanded.----------------- --------- He stared back at her, an odd mixture of dissapointment and shock contorting his features. He quickly noticed that the only two people in the room was himself, and Quistis. "No one," he answered. "I must have been dreaming."-------------------------- (And the dream ended too soon) he thought.---------------------------- ---------- "Whatever you say, Mr. Leonhart. Just get up and get dressed. I have a witness for you to talk to," she replied as she opened the door and prepared to step out. "And one last thing. I don't want you going anywhere near Rinoa from now on. Nor do I want to hear anything about her come from your mouth. That's an order."-------------------------- After she had slammed the door behind her, he rose from his bed and fumbled for his clothes in the darkness, not wanting to take the time to turn on the light. He needed a few moments as it was to calm down after before meeting with that awful woman. There were many times, this being no exepction, that he hated his job.  
  
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Selphie Tilmitt sat alone at the dining room table, a cup of steaming coffee in front of her. She'd been awake all night, after being questioned repeatedly by Quistis. Finally, sometime shortly before dawn she had let her alone, saying that she would be back soon Mr. Leonhart.----------------- ---------------------------------------------------------- "Do you need to be shown to a room?" a sympathetic voice asked as she walked into the room, carrying a large tray of that morning's breakfast in her arms.---------------- She looked up to see the black-haired woman that she had met the night before. Quistis' sister she had claimed. "No, I'm waiting for Quistis. Do you know when she'll return?"---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- Before Rinoa could answer, Quistis burst into the room with a groggy, fatigued Squall in tow. She sent a harsh look in Rinoa's direction, reminding her of the unpleasant confrontation they'd had the night before, after Quistis had summoned her from her bed. Rinoa quickly set down the food she was carrying and quietly excused herself, gently brushing past Squall to the door. But this was not before she noticed the way Selphie's tired eyes had lit up after they'd fallen upon Squall. As soon as she'd closed the door behind herself she felt a rush of something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.--------------- Inside, Quistis took a seat near Selphie, and Squall sat as far away from the two of them as he possibly could.---------------------------------- ------------------------------ "Ms. Tilmitt," Quistis instructed, "tell Squall everything you saw when your boyfriend was murdered."------------------------------------------ ---------------------- "Well, we were meeting on this bridge late at night," she began. "You see, we had to sneak around because he was married. We were having an affair. Anyway, we met at the bridge and were heading off to the motel when-"-------------------------------------- "When out of nowhere your boyfriend was attacked as soon as you set foot off the bridge," he finished for her, his mind slowly churning as he realized she was telling the same story as what he had dreamed before.------ ---------------------------------------- "Yeah," she nodded. "How did you know?"------------------------------ ------- "I, uh... heard about it before," he lied.---------------------------- -------------- "Anyway, I didn't see who it was that got hold of him. It was the strangest thing, like I had been temporarily blinded, or something."-------- ------------------------------- "Yes. Such was the case in previous murders," Quistis replied. "It sounds like you're a victim of the same murderer, Ms. Tilmitt."------------- -------------------------- "But what about his wife?" Squall asked. "She isn't the least bit concerned about this?"------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------ "She's too distaught to handle it. She thinks the police are on it."- ---------------- He nodded, having his own doubts about that theory. "Yes well, I have to record this new information," he said, standing from his seat and heading for the door.------------ "Wait!" Selphie called. "What about me? Do I just go home now? I'm afraid to. Whoever did this might come after me, too."--------------------- ------------------------- "Fine," Quistis sighed. "You can stay here. I'll have someone show you to a room so you can get some rest."------------------------------------ ---------------------------- "Thanks, Mrs. Trepe!" she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair and running after Squall, latching onto his arm once she had located him right outside the door. "Do you think you could show me around? You know, since you've been here awhile and all."----- Before he could answer, he looked up to notice Rinoa staring down at them from her place at the top of the staircase. Almost as soon as his eyes met with hers, she looked away, shaking her head slightly, and walked away, her back rigid against his stare.--------- Squall watched her go, his eyes following her every movement until she was no longer visible. At last, he turned to his rather annoying companion and pulled his arm away in disgust. "I'm afraid I don't have the time."---------------------------------------- She frowned but slowly backed away, allowing him his temporary peace. With a shake of his head and a sigh, he began down the hall to his own room, his brain much to cluttered even him to think out. He decided instead that he would try to catch up on the few hours of sleep that he had lost before dealing with the hassels of the day.  
  
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The sun had risen far into the sky the second time Squall was awoken, and this time it was even more rudely than the first. He had been deep in a sound sleep, lost to the voids of an unspeakable dream, when suddenly, a bright white light washed through his vision, burning them before his memory could capture them.------------------------------ He pried his eyes open this time to find that Rinoa had yanked the drapes open, and was now walking busily from furniture to furniture, dusting.--------------------------- "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he exclaimed.------------- ----------- She turned back to him and grinned bitterly, an expression that he felt just didn't belong on her face. "The servant must clean," she murmered before returning to her work.-------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------- He sat up on the bed, not caring for the moment that his blanket had fallen off him and gathered over his lap, revealing his muscular chest. "Well, you're not going to be cleaning in here right now. Besides, you're not a servant."-------------------------------- "Maybe not, but everyone sees me that way," she replied softly without turning around. "And I'm sorry if I disturbed your nap. I should've guessed that Ms. Tilmitt kept you up most of the night."---------- ------------------------------------------------------- His stood from the bed, his state of undress temporarily forgotten (thankfully, he'd left his boxers on in his earlier haste to get to sleep) and stomped up behind her, his anger getting the better of him for once. He pulled her around to face him and began to speak, for the moment not noticing the look of shock on her face as she saw him.----------------- "What exactly is your problem? I haven't done anything to you, yet you barge in here and act like you've got some kind of reason to be mad! What's worse is that you accuse me of something you and I both know I didn't do!"------------------------------ Once she was over her initial shock, she cringed at his anger and shrunk away from him, regretting that she'd even entered that room in the first place. "I'm sorry. I'll leave," she replied softly, her voice wavering slightly with her fear.--------------------------------- She started to go, but he grabbed her gently by the wrist and pulled her back to face him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just want to know what you're problem is. And what Tilmitt has to do with it."-- ------------------------------------------ She shook her head. "You're really dense, aren't you?"--------------- ------------- As he was replying, he noticed a large, dark purple mark on her upper thigh, mostly hidden by her skirt. "What happened?" he asked nodding to her leg.---------------- This time she appeared even more terrified then when she thought he was angry at her. "It's nothing, really. I just fell or something, okay?"- ---------------------------------- Carefully, not wanting to make her feel violated, he eased her skirt up with one hand and inspected the mark more closely, telling himself that he was just curious about the mark, and that it had nothing to do with wanting to feel her leg.. "You know, I'm an investigator. Part of my job is knowing when people are lying to me. Now do you wanna try telling me again what happened?"------------------------------------------------------ "I told you, I fell," she said, this time more steadily.-------------- ------------------ He studied her eyes for a moment before saying, "It's Quistis isn't it? She's doing this to you. That's why you're so afraid....."------------ ----------------------------------- She backed away from him slightly. "No. I'm not afraid. Quistis isn't doing anything to me. Now... I have to go."-------------------------- ---------------------------- With that she half-ran from the room, leaving him to watch after her again, a small tinge of sadness rising from the frozen depths of his heart. Once again, he dismissed it as pitty.-------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------ With a sigh, and a slight shaking of his head, he turned his attention to the clock near his bed and noticed it was well past noon. Just as he was grabbing up the clothes that he had discarded on the floor, another knock sounded on his door and Selphie stepped in through the partially open door, a wide smile on her face.------------------------------ ---- "I thought you might want some company," she said, ignoring his deadly looks. "I was awfully lonely."-------------------------------------- ---------------------------------- "Do I look like I care?" he asked. "Get out!"------------------------ --------------- She smiled widely at him and said, "I will if you really want me to. So tell me the truth. Do you?" -------------------------------------------- ------------------------------- "Are you deaf, or something? Get the fuck out!"---------------------- -------------- Selphie threw a brief glance over her shoulder and out the crack of the door then said, as loudly as she could, "Alright then. I'll come by here later, since you're too busy now!"------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------- She closed the door behind her and smiled happily at Rinoa, who had been passing by as Selphie had spoken. In fact, Selphie had made sure that she heard. After all, Selphie may not have been a genious but she had quickly realized that to get to him, she would have to get Rinoa out of the picture.---------------------------------------------------------- Selphie skipped down the hallway as if she hadn't a care in the world. As if her boyfriend hadn't just been murdered. But this didn't quite dawn on Rinoa. At the moment she was too focused on what Selphie had said.----------------------------------------------- Squall stepped out from the door and immediately noticed Rinoa, who was standing, rooted to the spot, in the hall, glaring off in the direction that Selphie had gone.-- "Rinoa. What are doing?" he asked.----------------------------------- -------------- She turned a venomous gaze in his direction. "I could ask you the same question. Or maybe WHO instead," she hissed before walking away from him yet again.--------------- He started to follow after her when a tall, solid looking man in a servants uniform stepped in his path. Squall arched an eyebrow at him, having never seen him before. "Can I help you?----------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------ "Mrs. Trepe has requested your presence for lunch. Please follow me to the dining room, sir."--------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------- "Tell her I'm busy," Squall replied, searching over the man's shoulder for any remaining signs of Rinoa.---------------------------------- ------------------------------------ "Sorry, sir. But when she requests your attendence, then it's my job to see that you get there."------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------- "Fine, I might as well get this over with."--------------------------- --------------------- He followed the stern-postured man out of the hall into the dinning room where Quistis and Selphie were seated around the table, as they had been earlier.------------------ "Good after-noon, Mr. Leonhart. Glad to see you could make it," Quistis commented. "Now be seated. I want to know how things are going."-- ---------------------- "What do you mean?" Squall asked as he sat down, ignoring the plate of food that had been set out for him in a chair closer to Selphie's.------- ---------------------------------- "You've had ample time to come up with some answers," she pointed out yet again.------------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------- "This isn't easy," Squall growled. "Especially when you can't even tell me who acts suspicious to you, and who doesn't."----------------------- ------------------------------- Quistis laughed. "Well, if you want someone who acts suspicious, start with my sister. But I know it couldn't be her. After all, an attempt was made on Seifer Almasy's life during all of this, and heaven knows she'd never do anything to harm him."-------------- "Seifer? Heir to the Almasy fortune? What does he have to do with Rinoa?" Selphie asked curiously.-------------------------------------------- -------------------------- "Seifer and I were business partners not long ago. I suppose that's why there was that little case of attempted murder. And yes, he does have what could be considered a fortune in a town like this, but it's nothing compared to what I have. Anyway, he and Rinoa got better acquainted and eventually the two got enaged to one another. Rinoa was head over heels in love. But Seifer decided, because of Rinoa's mental imbalances mostly, that he couldn't marry her and broke it off. She was heart broken. She still is. The pathetic thing still wears the engagement ring, a silver band with black markings on it."---- Squall eyebrows shot up as he quietly listened in on the two womens gossiping. So, she was going to act like she was jealous and he was jerk for making her that way, when all the while she wanted another man? He fought down the waves of rejection while thinking of a way to get back at her.------------------------------------------------------- "She wouldn't want revenge?" Selphie was saying, shaking Squall from his bitter thoughts.-------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------- "No. She'd never want to harm him. That's the only thing about her that I know for certain." -------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------- "If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do," he said, standing from his chair. "You always say that, but you never seem to get any work done," Quistis commented.---------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------- "Besides, you haven't even touched your food," Selphie protested.----- ------------- "I'm not hungry," he replied as he walked off toward his room. {+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}  
  
Rinoa sat in her room, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms folded around a pillow as she stared into space. She was fighting off an "unexplainable" feeling of pain and rejection, her mind continously focusing on the scene she had witnessed earlier.-------- When she'd finally had enough of her restless thougts, she decided she would try to settle her mind. She stepped out of her room and went down the hall to Squall's room, producing a key from one of her pockets. She used it to unlock the door and slipped inside, having over-heard Squall's conversation with the servant and knowing he would still be away at lunch.------------------------------------------------------------------- ----- As she walked through the dim room, she could feel the heat spreading across her cheeks. She knew she had no buisness being in there, but now that she was, she couldn't help herself. She glided around the room, carefully running her fingers over his possessions, taking everything that was part of him and etching it into her memory.-------- She was so focused on her unauthorized exploration, that she barely heard the key turning in the door in time to hide. She ducked into the walk-in closet just as the door swung open. Rinoa gazed through the crack in the door as Squall stepped into the room, a look of anger and hurt carved onto his face of stone. He pulled open one of the drawers in the table next to his bed and rumaged through it for a moment before finding what he had been looking for. Rinoa watched intently, her paranoid mind wondering if he could hear her excrushiatingly loud heart beat. He was just about to exit the room when she lost her balance in her crouching position and fell to the floor with what she thought was a defening sound. His head immediately jerked in her direction, his heavenly blue eyes searching the closet door. Rinoa stumbled farther into the closet until she felt a wall in front of her. She groped frantically for something to hide behind or beneath, but to no avail. She waited for a moment, holding her breath, until she finally heard the door to his room swing open, and slam shut again. She was just letting out a relieved sigh when the door swung open and the light from the bed room flooded in, exposing her to the intimidating silhouette that towered in the doorway.  
  
{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+} A/N: Poor the karosene on me and light a match! Jealousy is running rampant, and I have the feeling there's going to be some major heat coming my way. And what do you mean, romping? 


	4. Scar Tissue

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update, kids. I've been struggling with immense writer's block. My inspiration packed it's bags and walked out the door. Romping, one of you said. Yes, of course there will be. Why do you think this is rated "R"?  
  
Infatuation of the Rose Chapter 4  
  
The incriminating evidence rested snuggly in the leather interior of his coat pocket. With it, he would be certain to catch Rinoa in her act of injustice. The crime? Toying with his heart, playing off his physical senses. He told himself he wanted nothing more than to embaress her by bringing to light her deceptive little game. He wouldn't admit that it went deeper than that. Much deeper. No, he steered his mind away from those vague thoughts in the back of his mind as he suddenly found himself in a much more interesting situation.  
  
Upon returning to his room, he had heard something in the neglected closet of his room, and for a moment, thought it might have been an attacker. He had opened his door, and shut it, thinking the culprit would reveal themselves. After a short moment of waiting, however, he grew impatient, and decided to take a look himself. And what did he find upon searching the closet? None other than Rinoa Heartilly herself, cowering in a corner with a sheepish smile on her face.  
  
"Hi," she said, waving slightly.  
  
"I'm almost afraid to ask..." he began, shaking his head, "but I have to know. Just what do you think you're doing?"  
  
Slowly, she picked herself up from the floor and brushed herself off. "Funny story, really. Quistis sent me in here to check up on you. When I didn't find you, I was looking for you, and uh... got stuck in the closet."  
  
"I was meeting with Quistis just now," he replied.  
  
Damn, she knew that! Why did she use that as an excuse? She must've been the worst liar in all of history. "Oh.... well....." At that moment, she happened to glance down at her finger, and remembered her recent loss. "Okay, the truth is, I was looking for my ring. I lost it the other day, and I thought I might have dropped it in here."  
  
Squall was silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next. He decided he would mess with her mind a bit before confronting her. "What were you doing in my room then?"  
  
"Delivering your luggage," she answered, much more confidently this time. "Are you going to get mad at me for doing what I was told?"  
  
"What you were told... I suppose Quistis told you to do it, right?" he asked.  
  
Rinoa nodded, studing his face, trying to understand where he was headed with this conversation. "Yes, of course she did."  
  
"And did you realize what a violation of privacy it was?" he asked.  
  
"If it hadn't have been me, it would've just been someone else!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "What do you have to hide, anyway?" she demanded, regaining her confidence. "You're always being so secretive, so private. You don't want anything to do with anybody, and I think I know why!" she said, stepping closer to him in an intimidating manner. "You're hiding something. And I think that I, as a member of this household, as well as one of your clients, have a right to know."  
  
"I haven't been hiding any more than you have!" he spat back at her. "I don't have any secrets to guard. You, on the other hand, walk around here like your entire existence is some sort of deadly secret. You're with holding everything. Maybe the murderer has been under everyone's noses this entire time!"  
  
She narrowed her eyes. "You're full of shit. I'm not hiding anything. I'm not deceptive, and I'm not a murderer!" she exclaimed, her voice almost choking. "How dare you accuse me of that!"  
  
"Then how did you really get that bruise on your leg? What are you really doing in my room? Why are you so scared of everyone? And why are you fucking with my mind?"  
  
She glared up at him, a mixture of anger and confusion blazing deep within her eyes. "I don't owe you any answers!"  
  
He reached a hand into his pocket, then, without saying another word, and produced something that he held tightly in his fist before opening his palm and exposing the sacred object to light.  
  
A small gasp escaped her, as she eyed the ring with surprise. "Give me that!" she exclaimed, attempting to take it from him. Unfortunately, he was too quick for her.  
  
He shook his head. "Not until you give me some answers. I have a right to know," he mocked her.  
  
She scowled at him before turning her back to him. "It's none of your business."  
  
"Well, when you change your mind, you can have it back..." he trailed off, and began to exit the room.  
  
"Quistis hurt me...." she spoke in a near whisper, just before he could leave the room.  
  
He halted in his tracks and turned to face her, though she now had her back turned to the door. "What do you mean she hurt you? She put that bruise on you?"  
  
When she nodded, too distraught to vocalize her answer, he let out a sigh. "Why didn't you tell someone before? Why do you let her do that to you?"  
  
She drew in a sharp breath, a chaotic storm of long-supressed pain beginning to rush to the surface. "Who else was there to tell? Anyone else that's ever stayed here before was one of Quistis's rich, snobby friends. I did try to tell someone once, though... he didn't believe me. I've never known anything different," she admitted. "Before it was Quistis, it was my father...."  
  
A long silence stretched out before them, the sound particles of their voices fading from the room, the subtle vibrations seeping into the walls while the air fell flat. Finally, after an agonizing eternity of hellish silence, he turned her around to face him. "You probably shouldn't stay here," he said.  
  
She laughed bitterly. "Where else am I going to go?"  
  
"Go to him," he said, offering her the ring that rested in his palm. After hearing this dark secret of her past, he suddenly wasn't so angry anymore.  
  
She took the ring and slipped it onto her finger, but gazed up at him in confusion. "Go to who? I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Cut the act," he said. "I heard Quistis talking about him."  
  
"About who?!" she demanded.  
  
"Your fiance'," he clarified. "I heard all about him."  
  
"Seifer?" she asked, then shook her head. "I can't stand him. I wouldn't want to go back to him."  
  
"That's not the way Quistis put it," he replied.  
  
Rinoa shook her head. "Seifer cheated on me. So I broke it off. Quistis got upset about it, hoping she would be able to get at his money through me. She was going to force me to get back together with him, but by that time, he'd proposed to the woman I found him with. I want absolutely nothing to do with him."  
  
"Then who's ring is that?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.  
  
"My mother's. It was one of the only thing's she gave me before her death that Quistis didn't take from me...."  
  
He wondered away from her, and over to the window, gazing out for a moment before saying, "There's no where you can go? You don't have any friends, or even distant relatives that you can stay with for awhile?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. I would go out on my own, but... I don't know what it's like. I'm a little scared of it...."  
  
He sighed again. "Stay away from Quistis. If you stay away from her, she can't hurt you."  
  
"I would never get away with it," she replied. "There's no where around here that I can hide. She knows where I sleep, after all."  
  
"You have to do something..."  
  
She tilted her head to the side. "Why do you care?"  
  
He simply didn't have an answer for that. But rather than attempting to stumble through an excuse, he didn't speak. He wandered off for a moment, returning to the window and gazing down at the moonlit garden below. Finally he said, "Quistis has been lying to me. To all of us, I think. I've grown highly suspicious of her throughout this investigation. Maybe we should watch each other's back. I don't know about you, but I certainly don't trust her."  
  
Rinoa nodded. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. So... we look out for each other. Agreed?" she asked, offering her hand to him.  
  
He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of what to do, then took her hand and nodded. "Yeah, okay. In the mean time, try to stay away from her. And if she comes after you again...."  
  
"What?" Rinoa.  
  
"Come find me," he replied, his stormy, restless gaze locking with hers for an agonizingly long second before he began to gently push her toward the door. "You never answered my other question, though."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What were you really doing in here?"  
  
She turned her head away to mask the tinge of pink spreading over her cheeks. "I'm not going to tell you. At least... not yet."  
  
He sighed. "Fine, whatever. Just don't do it again. It's weird."  
  
Once they had reached the door of his room, she turned around, and allowed a small smile to grace her delicate features. "Thanks. You don't know how much this will help me," she said.  
  
He shook his head. "Just don't say anything anywhere that Quistis or Tilmitt might here. I'm suspicious of her, too."  
  
She nodded, but made no move to leave. Squall, taking notice of this, asked, "What is it?"  
  
She shifted around uncomfortably for a moment, fidgeting with her hands before sliding her ring of her finger. "I want you to keep this. For good luck," she said softly as she handed it to him.  
  
"I can't take that. It's yours. It means a lot to you."  
  
She took his hand, and opened his fist, placing it back in his palm where it had been earlier that night before saying, "So do you..." so low he could hardly hear, as it was probably not intended for his ears in the first place. "Just, take good care of it," she said, louder this time, and walked off to her own room without once looking back.  
  
{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}{+}  
  
A/N: This is kinda a short chapter, without much going on, I know, but I haven't worked on this fic in awhile, and I needed something to ease me into it. So, now we know that Quistis is an abusive liar (sorry Quistis fans). Reveiws are much appreciated. 


	5. The Fun of Photography

A/N: Wow, how long has it been since I worked on this? Well, in honor of my first piercing (my eyebrow, though hardly relevant, I just love telling people about it) here's the next chapter.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
It had been a long, tiresome night of staring out the window, searching the darkness below for an answer. It was becoming difficult to keep up the façade, as she feared her partner's emotions might get in the way. Still, she had to keep acting the part. The truth had to be concealed, the lie told.  
  
As the sun slowly crept into the sky, setting the horizon ablaze with flames of light, she decided that she would go see him, though she would not dare to wake him up. She slowly opened the door, delighting in the fact that he had forgotten to lock it. She hadn't a key, after all. She crossed the darkened room and came to stand next to his bed, just as she'd done on many occasions, but noting this time, that something was different. Something glimmered from within the trappings of his fist, and she gently pried his fingers apart until she spotted the silver ring resting in his palm. Though she had no feelings for him herself, just a possessive physical attraction, she felt a strong resentment upon seeing the way he seemed to treasure the small token of affection Rinoa had given him. She felt the urge to snatch it away from him, but thought better of it. No need to rouse suspicion. Punishment would be dealt soon enough  
  
Instead, with a cruel little smile on her face, she turned away from him and gently shut his door behind her, before heading down the hallway to the room she had visited often during the night. As she looked in upon the small, sleeping form she would soon disturb so violently, she couldn't help but let a slight laugh escape. They were all just pawns in her plan, and none of them had any idea.  
  
  
  
Squall had been lost to a deep sleep when the presence of a hand on his shoulder awoke him. His eyes opened slowly, and almost immediately came to focus on the tear-stained face above him. Giving a slight groan of frustration at being woken so early, he sat up to better face the distraught girl sitting next to him.  
  
"What happened?" he mumbled, clearing the sleep from his eyes.  
  
She looked away slightly, as if ashamed, then said quietly, "She. she hurt me again."  
  
"Why didn't you come get me?" he asked.  
  
"I couldn't get away. She was really angry. I'm sorry, there's nothing you can do now. I shouldn't have disturbed you."  
  
He shook his head. "No, it's okay. Where did she hit you? Is it bad?"  
  
"In a lot of different places," she replied. "But the worst is on my back."  
  
"Let me see, if you can."  
  
"O-okay," she murmured, standing from her place on the bed and turning her back to him. She reached behind her and pulled her shirt over her head, clutching it closely to her chest in front of her. Her pale, porcelain skin was marred by a large spot of purplish and blue with several scrapes and scratches across it.  
  
"Damn." he muttered. "If it's okay with you, I need to get a picture of this, for evidence."  
  
She nodded meekly, standing in the same position while she heard him fumble through the darkness for his camera. "Make sure you put the flash on," she offered in a weak voice. "If you don't, the picture won't show up very well."  
  
"Yeah, maybe I should hire you to start taking my pictures for me, since you're so good at it," he replied softly before he quickly taking a couple pictures and stashing the camera safely in the drawer. "Okay, I got it."  
  
She pulled her shirt back over her head and turned to him, "What good do you think that picture will do?"  
  
"If Quistis is the murderer, then it could be useful in court for proofing that she's a violent person," he explained. "I'm really suspicious of her, and maybe you could help me catch her."  
  
She looked him in the eye at this, seeing the clear trust in his eyes, even in the dim light. Her eyes darted from his, searching the floor in a display of guilt that, for the moment, he was too blind to catch. "Yeah, maybe," she replied nervously.  
  
There was an awkward silence between the two for several moments before Rinoa finally said, "Well, I guess I should be going back to my room now. I'm sure you've got a long day ahead of you."  
  
He nodded slowly and sat back down on his bed, not looking at her for a moment. When he did look again, she was gone, without a sound. He heaved a sigh and lay back across the bed, closing his eyes sleepily.  
  
"Perhaps there's more to these lies than you think," he heard what he thought was Rinoa's voice speak quietly.  
  
Opening his eyes again, he found that he was still alone. Was he hallucinating?  
  
  
  
By noon the entire mansion, servants and guests alike, were awake  
  
It was nearing noon as Rinoa sat alone in a large, cushioned seat in the library. In her hands, she held a camera pointed out toward the landscape that rolled out below in beautiful emerald hills. Rose bushes grew in wildly tangled bushes that covered the crumbling statues of the courtyard, and moss grew on the damp stonewalls that separated their world from that of the outside. She raised her camera into position in front of the window, but froze as a vague memory overtook her.  
  
She remembered observing the same beautiful landscape, so many years before. She peered through the smears of dirt at the event unfolding in the courtyard. A carefully crafted wooden casket sat at the front, a picture of a beautiful woman placed on the top. A small crowd had gathered in front of it, a blur of black cloth and gloomy faces. At the front was a tall man with graying hair, and standing next to him was a young woman with honey blonde hair. The tall man was her father, a stern person with a stony face. This she recognized immediately, but the blonde girl next to him, possibly only a few years older than she was, she had never seen before in her life. She could recall now, had she had been so confused as to why this stranger was standing so close to her father. There was still a secret lingering there, that she didn't know or understand. She had taken pictures on that faithful day, the day that her mother was placed under the ground. They had been taken from her afterwards, just as everything else had. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to her mother, as she had been locked in the library during the funeral.  
  
Her journey down memory lane was cut short as she heard the door to the library close softly. She turned in her chair and tried to see around the bookcases in the way, but still could see nothing. Getting up with an annoyed sigh, she followed the footsteps through the maze of bookcases, curiosity getting the better of her. As she turned a corner around one of the cases she bumped into something hard, and stumbled back. Looking up with inquiring eyes, she was met with a frosty blue gaze.  
  
"Were you following me?" he asked, an unhappy frown upon his face.  
  
She took a few more steps back in fear, and said quietly, "No. I mean, yes. I'm sorry. I heard someone come in, and I was curious, was all."  
  
He shook his head. "Haven't you ever heard that curiosity killed the cat? What if I had been Quistis?"  
  
"I'm not a cat," she answered seriously. "And Quistis rarely ever comes in here."  
  
"Whatever," he grumbled, turning to search the bookcase. At this she noticed that he had a notebook and pencil tucked under his arm. No wonder he was so grumpy. He had come here to work alone.  
  
"Can I help you find something?" she offered, knowing she should leave him alone, but being somehow unwilling.  
  
"Those family records you mentioned the last time we were here," he began, "where are they? I thought it could be of some use to look over them."  
  
She led him to a bookshelf near the back of the library, sheltered beneath an overhanging balcony on the second floor. Her eyes quickly scanned over the worn, unmarked spines of the book before lightly tapping the shelf with her fingers. "This is it. All the books on this shelf are the records that have been kept over the years. Anything you want to know about the family, or the business, should be here."  
  
He nodded but remained silent, making no move to pull any of the books from the shelf. She wondered after his behavior until she realized he was waiting for her to leave. Trying to ignore the heat that spread over her cheeks, she ran a self-conscious hand through her long, silky hair and said, "I guess I'll let you work now. If you need anything else, I'll probably be in my room."  
  
She turned on her heel and quickly walked away, not waiting for a reply. She couldn't put her finger on the exact reason why, but he had the strange ability to make her forget where she was, or what she was doing, while thoughts of him took over her mind.  
  
As soon as she thought she was safe from his watchful eye, she glanced back in the direction she had come, and noticed a different pair of eyes upon her. On the second floor balcony stood Quistis, looking down at her with deadly vehemence in her eyes, as if she had seen and heard everything. Her eyes said it all, "Why are you helping him? I thought I told you to stay away." But the warning need not be spoken aloud. It was the only warning she'd get before she'd have to suffer the consequences.  
  
When Quistis saw that her silent message was understood, she turned and exited the library into the second story's main hall. Rinoa followed suit, entering the first story's main hall and traveling to the illusionary safety that was her room.  
  
Back in the library, Squall chose the nearest book and pulled it down before flipping it open to a random page. Business records. He set it aside on a lower shelf, making a mental note to pick it up before he left the bookcase, and chose another random book. This is one, a recent record of family births and deaths, could prove to be very useful, he thought. As he flipped through it quickly, something fell out and drop to the floor with a soft 'thud'. He bent down and picked up the shining object from the carpeted floor. It was a small, silver key that looked as though it might go to a diary, or small box. Maybe even a safe. Shooting a cautious glance around the room, he stuffed the key into his pocket for safekeeping.  
  
  
  
Taking both of the books, he headed toward the nearest table and sat down in preparation for a long day of work and research. Studying the family records, he noticed that a particular place seemed to be marked in the back. He flipped it open, revealing a dried rose that had been pressed between the pages for years. It marked the most recent entries, beginning with the birth and death of Julia Heartilly. Beneath that was the birth date of Rinoa Heartilly, and under that was the final entry, or what had once been an entry. The name had been vigorously erased, and no date of birth had ever been entered. Only the date of death, the same day that Julia Heartilly died.  
  
After a moment's thought, he dismissed it as a mistake, or perhaps the rushed recording of a distant relative's death. It was nothing to worry over, right?  
  
  
  
Rinoa was half asleep in her room when a heavy knock on her door sent her bolting into an upright position. She decided it was probably one of the servants delivering Quistis' order to get up and help serve dinner, and came close to ignoring. A second pounding at her door persuaded her to answer, and she wearily trudged from her bed to the door. She yawned upon opening it, but slammed her mouth shut when she saw who was there.  
  
"Squall. What are you doing here?" she asked nervously.  
  
"Sorry. I see I woke you up. I was just wondering, where do you get your pictures developed around here? I need to get those pictures done from last night," he lowered his voice slightly on the last sentence, treating it as it was, a secret known only to the two of them.  
  
She smiled again, one of those rare, innocent smiles that amazed him so much. "There's a dark room here in this mansion. I set it up a few years ago to develop my pictures. I can show you there, if you want."  
  
He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "Do you think you could develop them for me? I don't know how," he explained, seeming embarrassed that he didn't know how to do everything.  
  
Her smile grew, and she stepped out of her room, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I'd be happy to. Follow me."  
  
She led him down the familiar main hall before opening a door and turning in to a series of dark, forgotten corridors with dust-covered floors and cobwebs in the corners. "It's been so long since I've been there," she explained. "I've not developed film in a year or more."  
  
When finally the journey was finished, she opened a heavy black door and stepped into a pitch-black room. After a moment of hesitation, he stepped in after her, and frowned as the door closed, taking all the light with it. He heard a soft 'click' near the wall, and suddenly the room was bathed in dim red light.  
  
"Let me see the film," she said, holding out her hand confidently.  
  
He silently turned over his fragile evidence to her, and watched as she began messing with chemicals, and small trays. As she set about her work, he leaned closer and watched over her shoulder, part of his mind filled with curiosity, and the other with thoughts of how small the room was, and how close he was to her.  
  
He wasn't the only one to notice this, of course. Rinoa was glad she had gone through this process enough times that she could do it without thinking, because her thoughts were currently occupied with other things. She could sense him right behind her, intently watching everything she did. He was so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body, as well as his warm breath on her neck and shoulder. At this sensation, her body tensed visibly, and goose bumps rose along her arms and neck. It was as if volts of electricity were pumping through her veins. She couldn't help but wish that developing process lasted longer.  
  
Finally, she placed the photo in one last try, and the two watched as the image slowly became visible. When Rinoa saw it, she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her mouth. Of course she had examined the bruise in the mirror, but for some reason, looking at it now in the picture in front of her, she felt as if the weight of the situation grew a thousand times. The physical pain she had endured had been great, but looking at it now, as a person from the outside, the immense pain in her heart was far worse. She slowly put a trembling hand to her mouth, staring down through glassy eyes.  
  
Squall looked over at her questioningly, still close at her shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.  
  
She looked at him with mourning, desperate eyes, their faces inches apart. She drew in a shaky breath, and in a moment of sheer weakness, reached out for the only comfort there was to be had. She leaned forward slowly, and met his lips to hers.  
  
  
  
A/N: So, what do you think? There's a little bit going on here, both in plot development, and in the romance department. Also, I just wanted to say, that I really know very little about photography and picture developing, so if I said/did something wrong, feel free to flame/criticize/ correct me. 


	6. Never the Same

Public Service Announcement: Well, here's the gripping conclusion! And, allow me to take this opportunity for some free advertising. If you haven't already, then go check out me and Renegade Seraph's fic, titled "Theory of a Dead Man". It's really cool, and we're putting a lot of work into this, so go read it! Well, enough bull shit, let's get on with the chapter.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
An unmistakable shiver climbed up his spine at the feeling of her lips pressed so gently against his. This certainly wasn't what he had been expecting when he asked Rinoa to develop his pictures, but as she turned and leaned closer to him, he didn't feel the least bit compelled to complain.  
  
As she carefully rested her timid hands against his chest, she began to forget about all the sorrow and pain that had driven her to this kiss in the first place. The only thing she could think of was him, his scent, his warmth, the feel of him so close to her. She briefly wondered if this was what heaven was, an intoxicated state where each physical sense was pleased, and the mind at peace. That's exactly how she felt, loosing herself in a serene haze. That is, until she was suddenly brought back to reality as he gently backed away from her.  
  
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" she began immediately. Gone now was her peaceful moment. Now she was left as prey to a sickening embarrassment that caused her cheeks to burn, and her stomach to twist. She fought down the overwhelming urge to run, and tried to face the situation with dignity. "I-I didn't mean to," she stammered.  
  
He quickly shook his head, raising a hand to silence her. "It's okay, really. It was just an accident, right?" he said gently, knowingly giving her a way out of her predicament. He didn't want an awkward situation anymore than she did.  
  
"Right," she said eagerly. "Just an accident." he took notice of the drop in her voice as she realized that by speaking this lie, it would do away with any chance she might've had with him. "Just an accident," she repeated reluctantly.  
  
He nodded, then gestured to the picture in the tray, "Is it ready?"  
  
Snapping out of her painful reverie, she shook her head, then picked the picture up and pinned up onto a wire strung through the air. "No, it has to air," she answered. "Come on, let's go."  
  
He almost didn't want to leave this darkened sanctuary that catered to his mood so well. Strange as it was for him, he didn't like calling it 'just an accident' anymore than she did. But he was a detective, and already he'd gotten too involved with her. He needn't make it worse.  
  
Once they were out the door, Rinoa wandered over to a large bay window at the end of the hall, and seated herself in it, studying intently the earth beyond it. Squall followed behind her, and looked out the window himself, wondering what was so intriguing. Outside the window was the sea, in all its immense glory. It was an outcast day, and the ocean was a solid wall of swirling gray colors. It held a certain beauty, even in its gloominess.  
  
"Sometimes I think of just diving into the ocean," Rinoa spoke suddenly. "Of swimming to the end of the horizon, away from here. I know that I would never reach the horizon. it's like a dream that's always out of one's grasp. I would die in the ocean, lost somewhere in that big void of salty water. But I wouldn't be here, and that's the only thing that matters to me."  
  
Squall was taken aback by her words, unsure of what to say to her suicidal confession. "Rinoa." he began in a quiet voice. "I wish that you wouldn't say things like that," he finished, his voice barely audible.  
  
She glanced over at him and gave a slight smile. "Thank you."  
  
With those words she stood up, and began the journey back to the main hall.  
  
================================================================  
  
"It's obvious that you haven't been listening to me," a voice began from near his bed. "You're a detective, you're supposed to stay away from her. So why don't you?"  
  
Squall opened his eyes slowly, peering through his dark, blurry vision for the source of his rude awakening. The rest of the day had passed uneventfully, Rinoa shyly keeping to her chores, and Squall delving into his case once more. The sunlight had long since lapsed into darkness, and most of the mansion was now peacefully asleep.  
  
"Who's there?" Squall asked groggily, more annoyed than alarmed.  
  
"You know who I am," came the simple reply. "Answer my question."  
  
He rolled over and buried his head beneath a pillow, in no mood for this kind of talk at such an hour. His eyes were shut tightly, and his mind was already slipping back into its unconscious depths when the pillow was pulled from his head, and he felt his visitor take a seat on the bed next to him. His eyes opened slightly as he felt a gentle hand come to rest on his bare shoulder, but his head was turned away, and he didn't bother to look. He couldn't bring himself to.  
  
"You're growing attached to her. That's fine. Just be aware of what you're getting yourself into," she spoke softly, concern ringing clearly in her voice. "Things will get confusing, and murky," she explained. "For a while, there will be no up or down, right or wrong, good or evil. You will find yourself helpless in a void of deception and fear. You will be cast carelessly into a tangled web of lies and broken emotions." There was a long pause, until finally she gripped his shoulder tighter, and asked, "Do you really want to save her?"  
  
"Save who?" he asked quietly. When he received no answer, he finally brought himself to look at her, and was strangely unsurprised at what he saw. It was Rinoa again, or at least it seemed. This was not quite the Rinoa he knew, but rather the one of his hallucinations. She was looking away from him, gazing into a vision unknown to anyone but herself.  
  
"Do you really want to save Rinoa?" she repeated after a few moments of silence.  
  
"Save her from what?"  
  
"From herself."  
  
Squall allowed his eyes to close for a brief moment at these words. What did she mean, from herself? Opening his eyes again, he found that he was alone once more, just as he always was at the end of these hallucinations. He briefly considered heading into town to the nearest doctor, but dismissed the idea. If indeed he was mad, he didn't want everyone to know.  
  
Despite the insanity of his 'imagined' visitor's question, he found it repeating itself over and over in his mind. Did he really want to save her, even if it meant being drawn into the world of deception that he knew lay just beneath the surface of this whole investigation? He sighed and laid back down again, the question for some reason bringing to mind their kiss, earlier that day. Both had reluctantly dismissed it as an accident, but. was there something deeper there?  
==================================================================== =  
  
"It's been almost a year," announced Quistis absent-mindedly.  
  
"Almost a year since what?" Selphie questioned that morning at breakfast. She was seated near Quistis at the long oak table, and Squall was seated as far away from the two as he could manage.  
  
"Since my last annual banquet," she replied over a steaming porcelain mug. "I have one every year, for the regional aristocracy. I've been debating over whether or not I would have one this year, with all that's going on, and I've reached my conclusion."  
  
"Which is?" Selphie pressed.  
  
"I've no choice but to have it," she responded proudly. "If the killer seeks to change my life, to keep me reeling with fear, then I refuse to give him what he wants."  
  
Selphie clasped her hands together over her meal and smiled. "I've never been to an aristocratic event before. Is it fun? Is it glamorous?"  
  
"More glamorous than fun. But don't worry. You'll get to judge for yourself in a few days' time. I'll have the invitations sent out immediately. I'll make it a grand event, and you can help me host."  
  
Squall rolled his eyes at the ever-enthusiastic Selphie as she squealed with happiness. Squall was already formulating an excuse not to attend, when Quistis cleared her throat and looked at him pointedly.  
  
"And you, Mr. Leonhart, will have the honor of escorting us both," she said.  
  
"With all due respect," he began.  
  
"No buts," she insisted. "Consider this part of your job."  
  
"I hardly see how escorting you to a party is in any way relevant to the investigation," he replied, his voice at a near growl.  
  
A faint flicker of a smile passed over Quistis' lips. "You'll see." With that, she said no more to him, and instead directed the conversation at Selphie once more. Squall, thoroughly disgusted with this turn of events, stood abruptly from his chair and left the room.  
  
"I sometimes wonder if you'll push him too far," Selphie said. "Maybe you'll make him so mad one day that he'll quit the case."  
  
A sly smile crept over her companions face. "He won't quit, I'm certain of that. I know something that's keeping him here. at first I thought his growing attachment a curse, but now, I see I can use it to my advantage."  
  
"What attachment?"  
  
Quistis only laughed, deciding now was not the time to share with her Squall's growing attraction to a certain raven-haired relative; an attraction she now intended to exploit to it's fullest.  
====================================================================  
Unbeknownst to the gossiping Quistis and Selphie, Rinoa had heard every word spoken in their conversation, as she had been working in the kitchen right next to the dining room. Her first thoughts were of betrayal. Quistis had promised her there would be no more banquets, not after the incident last year. Though it was true that she had never known Quistis to keep a promise, she thought that perhaps this would be different. Her thoughts, however, were quickly turned to the last relevant words spoken. Squall had grown attached to someone, she had said. But who? Who could possibly be so important as to make him stay and tolerate the injustices this investigation was bringing him, Rinoa wondered. With a sigh she pushed her inquiries aside, and grabbed a tray from the nearby counter top, making her way into the hall. Quistis and Selphie had requested tea in the parlor after breakfast, and if it wasn't there waiting for them, Quistis would get very angry.  
  
As she swung open the door and absent-mindedly stepped into the hall, a voice made her jump, startling her from her deep thoughts.  
  
"Rinoa?"  
  
Her arms jerked in surprise, and her silver tray of steaming liquid, fine china, and small snacks went crashing to the floor. Without even looking at the cause for this accident, she sank to her knees and frantically tried to pick it all up. She stopped suddenly as a hand reached out and began to help her. Her eyes traveled upward until she met with the gaze that she had come to fear since the day before.  
  
"Squall. what are doing here?" she asked, quickly looking away.  
  
"Walking," he replied. "I take it you were doing the same?"  
  
She just nodded, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice and quickly began scooping up the mess they'd made. Once the work was completed, in silence, she lifted the tray, piled with the shattered remnants of the tea set, and said, "Thanks for your help. I have to go now."  
  
With that she hurried away toward the kitchen, leaving a puzzled Squall to follow behind her, more out of curiosity than anything else. Or so he told himself. Her words had been spoken so fast, and emotionless, as if she were trying her best to get away from him. In truth, she was. Ever since the 'accident' in the dark room she was too ashamed to face him, and had been avoiding him ever since. She had been pleased with his concern over her depression, but after looking back on the situation, she was more embarrassed than anything.  
  
"Rinoa, is everything okay?" he asked, following her into the kitchen. Luckily, the only other person in there was one of the chefs, and she quickly left after seeing the strange pair wander in.  
  
"Yeah, everything's fine," she replied hastily. "Just doing my job."  
  
He studied her for a moment then let out a sigh. "I don't believe you, but. I guess it's none of my business."  
  
He had started to walk away, inwardly berating himself for actually showing any concern, when she stepped in front of him, and with an exasperated sigh, said, "Wait, I'm sorry. It's not that anything's wrong, I just." she paused for a moment to consider her words. "Promise me something," she requested suddenly.  
  
He looked at her strangely then asked, "What?"  
  
"That yesterday. that what happened yesterday didn't change anything between us. We're still friends, right?" she asked.  
  
"Friends, huh?" he repeated. Friendship was certainly not anything he was used to, and was dangerous in a case such as this. "Yeah, we're friends," he answered after a moment. "Nothing changed yesterday at all."  
  
She smiled. "Good, okay, I was worried."  
  
He nodded, but avoided looking into her eyes. Lying had never been a practice he was very comfortable with, especially not now. No, things were not the same, and he somehow doubted they ever could be. But still, he lied for her, because he knew it was what she wanted to hear. And for the smile on her face, and the look of relief in her eyes, he felt, it was worth casting aside the truth.  
==================================================================== ==  
A/N: Well, there's the next chapter. I'll be getting into my fireproof suit now. 


	7. Queen of Con

A/N: Well, here's the next chapter! To answer someone's question, yes there is going to be several major twists, the first of which will be coming up within the next few chapters. Maybe next chapter. We'll see. Well, on with the story.  
  
Chapter 7  
  
The next few days that followed Squall and Rinoa's talk in the kitchen passed with little incident. Squall was busy looking through documents, and Rinoa was busy getting ready for Quistis' party. In fact, when Squall saw her next, that's what she was doing. He found her balanced carefully on top of a large ladder, as she cautiously dusted a huge chandelier that hung from the ceiling.  
  
"Rinoa?"  
  
The sound of her name being called startled her, and she lost her footing atop the ladder, slipping and squeezing her eyes shut as she expected a harsh collision with the floor. Instead, she found herself crashing into something relatively hard, but softer than the cold, porcelain tile. She opened her eyes, realizing she was on the ground, and something, or someone beneath her had broken her fall.  
  
"Nice to see you, too," she heard a voice grunt out from underneath.  
  
She slowly lifted up her head, flipping back her long raven locks to peer into the set of crystal blue eyes that were only inches away from hers. "Hi," she whispered timidly, the all too familiar sensations of embarrassment consuming her once more.  
  
"This was one hell of a greeting," he replied, his warm breath gently caressing her lips. He felt Rinoa's body quiver against his own, and began to feel slightly warm himself. "I hate to disturb you, if you're comfortable, but maybe you should get off me now."  
  
Rinoa's already redden face grew even redder, if that was possible. "Sorry," she whispered as she scrambled to get off of him. She straightened her dress out as she stood up and dusted herself off. "So, what's up?"  
  
He shook his head. "Classified information. You?"  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. "That's classified, too I'm afraid. But, if you really must know, I'm cleaning for the banquet. Quistis expects every inch of the mansion to sparkle by the night of the banquet."  
  
"I'm dreading that night," Squall replied. "Your sister has ordered me to escort her and that Tilmitt girl." He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied his shoes for a long moment. "So, um. who are you going with?"  
  
"I never go," she answered. "I'm an embarrassment to Quistis, the way she sees it. She's afraid of what I'll do or say in front of her rich, snobby friends. She usually gives me the night off, but sometimes she puts me to work in the kitchen, or something."  
  
"What a way to spend the evening. Haven't you ever thought of just going anyway?"  
  
Rinoa smiled sadly. "Quistis wouldn't be very happy with me if I did that. And even still. I don't belong at an event like that. All the beautiful women in their gorgeous evening gowns. I would just make a fool of myself."  
  
"I don't think so," Squall admitted timidly. "It would probably be more. entertaining with you there."  
  
She smiled again, this one more cheerful. "Thank you. Now. do you even have anything to wear to the banquet?"  
  
He frowned. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"  
  
Rinoa grabbed his hand and started pulling him along down the hallway. "Come on. We're going shopping."  
  
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His first impressions of Timber hadn't been far from right. The majority of the town was nothing but shoddy apartments and wooden shacks where Quistis' employees lived. There seemed to be no other businesses in the town save for a few food shops and a run down restaurant sitting alongside the town's only hotel.  
  
"How is it that everyone here is so poor when you sister's business does so well?" Squall asked, staring through the tinted windows at the poverty stricken people outside.  
  
"Quistis barely pays them anything. She keeps most of the money for herself. The people of the town can't do anything, thought. It's either take the pocket change that they make working for Quistis, or starve to death. Not a lot of choice."  
  
"I see. Figures she'd do something like that."  
  
"Yeah," Rinoa sighed, leaning her forehead against the glass. "It runs in the family, I guess. My father was the same way, and so was my grandfather. I guess things will never change."  
  
He was silent for a moment, then said, "Quistis never had any children, did she?"  
  
"Thankfully no."  
  
"Then the business will have to go to you, once Quistis passes away," Squall pointed out.  
  
"You're right," Rinoa replied with a frown. "She never produced an heir. But surely she must've considered this. She'd sooner give up all her riches and join a nunnery than she would give it all up to me."  
  
Her pondering was halted as the limo pulled up to a small dress shop on the edge of town. "This is the only shop in town that sells nice clothes. Of course, no one here can ever afford to buy these kinds of clothes. I don't know how it stays open."  
  
The two left the comfort of the luxurious car, stepping out into the harsh winter air. The shop was small, made with whitewashed boards that were cracked and peeling, with a faded sign over the top of the door with the words 'Marla's Dress Shoppe' painted in sloppy blue letters.  
  
The inside seemed mostly empty, with dozens of unused racks pushed against the far wall. Rinoa stepped up to the front desk, ringing a small bell next to the cash register. A few moments later, a slightly aged woman with auburn hair pulled back into a braid, and a tape measure draped around her shoulder came rushing out from a back room.  
  
"Can I help you?" she huffed, her dull green eyes showing signs of exhaustion.  
  
"Do you have any men's suits available?" Rinoa asked.  
  
"I might have a few around here somewhere," she replied. "I'm not promising anything. Most of them were taken away."  
  
"Oh, is there a big rush for the banquet?"  
  
The woman laughed. "I wish. Everything's being repossessed. Ever since my no good husband left his debts on my shoulders, my business has been going down hill. It was hard enough to stay afloat to begin with. Now, whatever bit of money I make goes to pay off his gambling habit."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Rinoa replied. "Maybe they'll find him, and make him pay it off instead."  
  
"Now there's something I'd like to see. If I find out that good for nothing scum-bag has been alive all this time. Well, it has to be impossible. The police confirmed his death. Of course, they should go after that slut he was seeing on the side. She's the one he spent all his money on. Stupid fool."  
  
Squall and Rinoa exchanged glances, before he said, "This woman he was with. do you know her name?"  
  
She nodded. "Of course. I followed him out to their meeting place one night, and listened in on their conversation. Her name was Selphie, something. Tilmitt, I think. I did a little investigating after that, and found out she was nothing more than a con artist. So I didn't say anything to him. I figured I would wait until she took him for all he was worth. He deserved it."  
  
"A con artist." Squall murmured. "Do you know anything more?"  
  
"Just that she was allegedly a witness to his murder. Other than that, no."  
  
"No use discussing it now," Rinoa sighed. "We need a suit. Could you please go look for us?"  
  
She nodded. "Of course. In the mean time, feel free to look over what little bit I do have left."  
  
The two wondered around the room after the woman ran into the back room once more. "Hmmm." Rinoa picked up a silky blue bow tie and held it up to his neck. "It brings out your eyes."  
  
"No way," he grumbled, gently pushing her hands away. "I don't know why I let you drag me here, anyway. I don't care how I look at that stupid party."  
  
"No, but they do," Rinoa retorted. "You'll be Quistis' trophy for the evening, after all."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, she's not dragging you along for nothing," she explained. "She wants to show you off to all her high class acquaintances. That's all this banquet's about, you know. Just a big party so she can show off."  
  
"But why me?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Have you looked at yourself lately?"  
  
A look of confusion crossed his face. "Not really. is there something wrong with me?"  
  
Rinoa wasn't sure whether to blush, or to laugh. Instead, she shook her head, and slowly stepped away, resuming her search of the room. "This thing with Selphie. I guess there's more to it than you thought."  
  
He shrugged. "I knew there was something odd about it all along. I knew the truth would come out sooner or later. Now I just have to find out more about her past. A jealous wife's testimony isn't going to hold up by itself."  
  
"What will you do once this is all over?"  
  
"I'll leave," he answered simply.  
  
"Then I. I'll be alone in the house with Quistis again."  
  
He was silent, his eyes studying her carefully as he searched his mind for something to say. He couldn't stay there forever, and Rinoa couldn't survive in the world on her own just yet. Still, he couldn't just leave her there.  
  
As he was opening his mouth to speak, Marla came running back into the room, a tuxedo in hand. "The last one!" she announced. "It'll need a few adjustments, I think, but it should do fine."  
  
Rinoa nodded. "Great! We'll need it as soon as possible."  
  
"Just let me take measurements, make some adjustments, then he can try it on."  
  
Rinoa turned to him and smiled, causing a strange feeling to grow in his chest. "I guess that means you'll get to model for me."  
  
A few hours later, Squall stepped out of one of the few dressing rooms, his scowl seeming to deepen at his unease. "I fee like a penguin."  
  
She stepped closer to him, smiling as she studied the simple black suit he wore. "You look great," she commented quietly as she adjusted the collar. Instead of drawing back once more, she allowed her hands to rest on his shoulders. Being so close to him, and staring up into his eyes, she began to feel slightly dizzy. She could just imagine herself standing like this in his arms in the middle of a crowded ballroom. All eyes would be on them, yet, she would know nothing more of the world that what she saw before her.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked after a moment.  
  
She forced a smile, watching her pleasant little dream slowly vanish beneath the weight of reality. "Yes, I'm fine. We should be getting back soon. If Quistis notices I'm gone."  
  
Squall simply nodded, before he headed back into the dressing room to change once more. Rinoa watched him walk away, a mixture of longing and guilt swelling in her heart. She felt the sudden urge to run to him, and tell him everything. yet, all she could do was stand there, and smile, and try to forget everything that she knew. everything that she'd done.  
  
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A/N: It's short, useless, and boring but. next chapter, will be a very exciting one. Secrets are about to be revealed. 


	8. Burn

A/N: This has been sitting on my floppy disk for months, and I finally got around to finishing it. Whoo-hoo for me!

Chapter 8

Quistis calmly studied herself in the vanity mirror, turning this way and that, admiring the way her light gold dress glittered in the light. Around her neck was a string of her best diamonds, and her hair was piled in an extravagant up-do. She had no doubt in her mind that she'd turn heads at the party, perhaps even Mr. Leonhart's.

"You look lovely," Selphie commented from the doorway. She was clad in a short emerald dress that made her eyes sparkle. "You'll be the envy of the banquet."

"Not so bad yourself, Ms. Tilmitt," Quistis replied. "Now, are you ready? The guests will be arriving shortly."

"Yes, I'm ready. Squall better be ready soon, too. I bet he looks great."

"I look terrible."

Down several hallways in a small guest bedroom, Squall Leonhart scowled at himself in the mirror. "This is so unbelievably stupid."

Rinoa, dressed in her usual short black dress, leaned against the frame of his door and smiled. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You look very handsome," she commented blushingly. She stepped over to him, adjusting his collar, and sighed. "All the girls will be after you."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So... What will you be doing tonight?"

"Just hanging around. I have the night off."

"I still think you should come," he replied seriously.

She shrugged and laughed nervously. "Parties aren't really my thing, and I don't have anything to wear, anyway."

He shook his head, part of him wishing he could get the chance to see Rinoa all dressed up. She would certainly be better company that Quistis and Selphie. "Well, I guess I better go meet your sister downstairs. Wish me luck."

"What for?"

"For making it through the night without killing anyone."

She laughed nervously, and it was painfully obvious, at least to her own ears. She tensed her body to keep her limbs from trembling, and plastered a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm sure you'll do fine. But good luck anyway. Have fun!"

Before he could say anything more, she had broken into a near run for the hallway, leaving him to frown in confusion. There was certainly something suspicious there, lurking beneath her sweet, quiet exterior, but for once in his career he wanted nothing more than to turn a blind eye to it. He was the king of all fools, he realized as he stood there. He had done the one thing you were never allowed to do in his profession...

"What the hell are you doing just standing there?" a displeased Quistis demanded from his door way. "The guests will be arriving any minute, come on!"

He followed Quistis out, pausing briefly to glance down the hall in the opposite direction, where he'd watched Rinoa disappear just moments earlier. Yes, he'd made the one fatal mistake that he had never imagined himself to fall prey to... he had grown attached to Rinoa Heartilly.

* * *

If somewhere in the after life there was a hell, it would most certainly be something like this. He had never seen so many quiet, grave-faced people in one place, except for maybe in those execution rooms you'd see in those old movies. In fact the numerous amount of pale, stiff looking people wandering around seemed to give off the idea that it was a grandly decorated morgue having a secret welcoming party for all its inhabitants.

As if that weren't bad enough, he was certain that he would smell like an elevator full of old ladies or a shoe store on half-off day for the rest of the week. Every woman in the ballroom had found some excuse to shake his hand, embrace him, and when he wasn't looking, a few of them even had the gall to pinch his butt. And the icing on this morbid little cake? Both Quistis and Selphie had practically stayed glued to his side.

At some point, the two had hurried off to welcome some fashionably late guest coming in the door, and he was left to sit alone at one of the tables, downing glass after glass of any kind of alcoholic beverage he could get his hands on. As he slammed another of his drained glasses down on the table, an older woman, perhaps in her early fifties, took a seat next to him. She wore a simple black dress, and the only thing to decorate her face was a scowl. Her snow colored hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her crystal eyes glared out over the ballroom. Squall decided he'd ignore her for as long as he could.

"You look like you're getting' good and wasted," she said at last. "Where does that Trepe bitch keep the heavy stuff?"

For a long moment, he could only stare at her.

"What, do I have food in my teeth? Should I take them out an' clean them?"

"No!" Squall finally managed to choke out.

"Hmph." The woman crossed her arms over her chest and she watched the room with a hawk-like gaze once more. "Well, I'll be damned. The Almasy widow showed up tonight. Thought she'd wait at least a year out of respect if nothing more."

Squall followed the direction of her gaze until his eyes settled on a young, blonde-haired woman that had just entered the room. "I take it you don't mean Seifer Almasy's mother."

"Of course not! She's been dead for quite some time."

"Then you must be mistaken. Seifer Almasy is still alive... or so I was told."

"What idiot told you that? Seifer Almasy has been dead for a year... hell, he died here in this house."

Squall turned a burning stare on the woman. "You better not be senile, woman."

Her lips tugged upward. "I assure you I'm not. It was last year at Trepe's banquet. They said it was alcohol poisoning, but I don't believe that for a minute. It smells too fishy to me."

It only further proved what he'd suspected all along. Quistis Trepe had been lying to him. But why would she lie about something like that? To try and pin the whole thing on her sister by getting her ex-fiancé involved? The haze clouding his mind began to clear, his professionalism taking control again as he analyzed this new bit of information. He stood up, deciding that he was going to return to his room no matter what Quistis had to say about it.

"Well, I see you've met Mrs. Winters."

Speak of the devil, and she appears in the flesh. Quistis stood before the table, sporting a feigned smile that she aimed in the direction of Squall's middle-aged companion.

"Elisa, nice to see you again," she greeted, extending a hand to her guest.

"That's Mrs. Winters to you too, child," the old woman snapped as she stood from her seat and ignored Quistis' out-stretched hand. "You call this a party? Why in my day..."

Squall didn't hear anything else Elisa had to say, despite the humor of it. His eyes were focused instead on the ballroom doors that had just parted slowly, a timid, reluctant figure quietly stepping inside. The afore mentioned cloud seemed to fall from the sky and blanket his brain once more, as if all the wine he'd had that night chose that one moment to slam into his system. Without bothering to excuse himself from the table, he headed off toward the entrance, his legs moving forward without thought to drive them.

If fear were capable of killing a person she was certain she'd be on the floor by now. She still had no idea what it was that possessed her to come here, where she was forbidden to so much as show her face. And no, she couldn't have taken the easy way out, and just snuck in with the rest of the servants. When she gave into the sudden impulse to defy her half-sister's orders, she went all the way, fixing her hair, dabbing on a little make up and slipping into an old dress of her mother's that miraculously was a perfect fit on her. She bit her lip, studying her reflection in one of the polished pillars and frowned, feeling like she didn't belong here at all. The thin, light blue, spaghetti-strap floor length dress she'd chosen to wear didn't seem to fit in with the sparkling evening gowns of the other women.

She had been standing there for nearly three minutes and Quistis had yet to spot her. She was just about to give in to the urging of her instincts and leave when a warm hand placed itself on her shoulder.

"Rinoa? I thought you weren't coming here?"

Rinoa turned around to face him, her face flushed the color of a sunset sky. The quivering in her chest reminded her of the whole reason she had wanted to come here in the first place, but now that he stood before her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Are you alright?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

After a few moments of nearly incoherent stuttering, she finally managed to say, "I... I really don't know."

"I thought you weren't going to come."

She smiled shyly and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I changed my mind." She laughed nervously. "When Quistis sees me she's going to be so angry..."

"She wouldn't do anything in front of her friends, right?"

"No, of course not. But later tonight..."

"I'll protect you," the words slipped out with no permission from his mind. Yes, he wanted to protect her, but what made him say it aloud? Was it the look of fear in her eyes, or his slightly clouded judgment? It didn't matter. Suddenly, she was the only thing on his mind.

Her blush only deepened beneath his intense stare, and, summoning all her courage, she lifted a fragile hand to him. "Well, if you want me to stay then... you have to dance with me."

"I don't dance."

"Yeah, I bet," she replied, a rare tone of mischief in her voice. "I bet you'll only dance with someone you like. That's it, isn't it? Do I have to hypnotize you into liking me?" she questioned, raising her hand before his face.

He brought his own hand up to grab hers and lowered it slightly, away from his face. "I already feel hypnotized," he murmured.

She cocked her head to the side slightly. "What?"

He shook his head. "I... didn't mean to say that out loud."

"I see. Well, if you don't wanna dance, I'll just find someone else," she retorted, starting to walk away. She didn't get very far as he still held her hand, and had tightened his grip on it, pulling her back.

"Fine. But just one."

She nodded in silent agreement as he gently led her to the dance floor, which was occupied by a few other young couples at the time. She slid her arms around his neck, shivering slightly as his hands came to rest on her hips. The only other time they'd been this close was during their 'accidental' kiss, and at the moment, she was having trouble keeping herself from another accident.

"So, have you had fun so far?" Rinoa asked.

"What do you think?" he asked, his voice a husky rumble against her ear.

She couldn't help but press herself closer against him, reveling in the moment she had only dreamed about before. His scent washed over her, causing a tidal wave of warmth to crash through her body, and his arms around her made her feel safe in a way that she never had before. Not Quistis or anyone else could harm her here... not here in this blissful, heavenly warmth wrapped so lovingly about her. Hesitantly, she dared to lay her head on his chest, and smiled when he didn't resist it.

"How many other girls have you danced with this way?" she wondered aloud.

"You're the first... and the last."

Her heart slammed into her chest at the implication of those words, but she quickly reigned in her emotions before asking, "What does that mean?"

"It means that no one else could con me into dancing," he replied with a tone of humor she'd never heard him use before.

She snuggled even deeper into her chest, laughing partly at herself and her quick assumptions and partly at him. Her eyes had been closed, as she had wanted to simply feel the moment, without the distraction of the world around her, but for a moment, just a moment, she allowed her eyes to slide open, and spotted a very angry Quistis headed her way. Rinoa tore herself away from her safe haven in panic and immediately lamented the loss.

"Shit! I am in so much trouble," Rinoa whispered, slowly backing away.

"She wouldn't leave her party with all the guests here, would she?" Squall asked.

"No, but..."

Before she had a chance to finish, she found herself being led out through the doors she had only recently come out of, with every eye in the ballroom following her the entire way.

"She's gonna kill me for this!" Rinoa couldn't help but laugh as he pulled her along. They finally stopped in the hallway near their bedrooms, Rinoa giggling slightly, and Squall himself was fighting off a smile. He wasn't sure what had come over him. This was nothing at all like the kind of thing he would've normally done, it almost didn't feel like it was him standing there at all. He wasn't sure if he should blame that on the wine he'd had, or the woman standing before him. "Well... what now?" she wondered quietly.

"Go some place I can keep an eye on you... have to keep my promise."

Her smile only grew as she looked up at him, her heart pounding so fast that it made a faint, delightful little pain in her chest. "You'll have to sleep sometime." The upturned corners of her lips dropped a little as she added, "But that's okay. You care... that's enough."

Her eyes fell from his, sparkling with the unshed tears of a terrible burden. The pain in her chest built into something that spoke of betrayal, and it closed so tightly around her that she was just opening her mouth to excuse herself from his intoxicating presence when his hand upon her face startled her back into reality.

"No, it's not enough," he spoke, so close now that the bitter edge on his breath brushed against her lips, sending thrills of excitement and anticipation through her body. "You deserve so much better than this..." Skin just barely brushed skin at this and she began to tremble, only fear of sudden rejection keeping her desires at bay. "You do something to me that you shouldn't..."

"I'm sorry," she managed to choke out.

"No," his lips pressed briefly against hers, forcing a whimper from her throat. "I don't want you to stop."

She had only a second to wonder if it was real, this seeming seduction from the single man that haunted her every fantasy, before his lips sought hers once more with a blind and heated hunger. With a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head back, ravaging her mouth as deeply as possible while she clung to him, hands fisted in his jacket. Her body smoldered both inside and out, a primal need scorching her senses and burning away any rational thought she might have had. If she'd been of sound mind at the moment she might have felt embarrassed at the desperation she was constantly moaning into his mouth, but then she couldn't hear anything but his own throaty growls as he abandoned her mouth so that she wouldn't suffocate.

She sucked in air, leaning weakly against him as her mind swam with ponderings over what his reaction would be if she dragged him straight to her bed right then and there. Her thoughts were shattered as his mouth assaulted her neck, mouth unbearably hot against her skin as it paused to suck gently at her pulse point before moving up to her ear and whispering her name in a sigh of pleasure.

She shuddered again, control slipping from her grasp. "Squall... I... I want..."

"Anything," he murmured, gently raking his teeth across her ear lobe. "Anything you want..."

"You're..." the fog slowly dissipated over her mind until she could finally form at least one coherent thought. "You're too good for me." And there it was again, closing back in, tightening around her heart once more and squeezing a sob from her chest. "I can't do this to you..."

"What are you talking about?" he inquired, face flushed their recent activity.

"I did it, Squall... I killed Seifer..."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait and all. I'm going to try and wrap this story up quickly. I want to go ahead and get it out of the way because it's been dragging on for quite some time now, and because I want to get a few stories out of the way so that I can post a new one I had an idea for not long ago. So, there will only be a few more chapters to this at most, as it's getting increasingly difficult to write.

Also, I realize Squall is OOC. Thus, the alcohol as something of a cover for it, because it's true that alcohol lowers your inhibitions. And we all know that deep beneath all that inhibition, he's really just an animal... Rawr.


End file.
